England Diaries: Day One of Summer

Today marks the beginning of summer here. I am sat here again, in front of the computer, but I don't know why. I check my email, I go on Friendster, MySpace, Facebook but I don't know why I do it every day. I hardly get emails, the profiles of my mates don't really change every day, and Facebook is just shite. But that only takes ten minutes. I spend most of it looking out that patio door, watching the birds play in the garden, and on this particular day, watching the rain drizzle over every grass and flower in the garden. I stare so long outside that it feels as if I watched every single individual raindrop fall on the grassbed. And then it hit me: I am in England, United Kingdom. I always loved looking out the window and watching anything and every thing. Before I left, I always think the same thought for the past five years of my life: how my life is so boring that I see the same things for the past 18 years, looking out the same window. Now all I want to see is that very same every thing. The garden here is absolutely beautiful, it's so alive, but unfortunately I am not a plant or a flower in the garden, hence I don't feel so alive.
It's resting somewhere inside my heart, very silently, that I have always wanted to be here - to be the best wife I can possibly be, and to be a good daughter and sister. But here I am, in this place I always looked forward to being in, yet I don't recognise it. I was always so sure that this is what I want, I just didn't know happiness was the price to pay. It really is unfair, because every one around me is trying really hard- from my husband to my in-laws. So, I have to put on a smile every time, even if I don't really feel like smiling, because it's the least I can do to let them know everything they do for me is appreciated. I really should be happy... I am here, aren't I? I am not dying of the heat and humidity, I don't have to worry and be scared of crossing the roads and I see a better future here, but I also don't have to worry about cathair on my favourite black top, or the stench in the dirty kitchen when the litter box had not been cleaned - and I miss that. I miss having to wrinkle my nose when I go into the kitchen, and I miss waking up and seeing six furry things come up to the top of the steps to greet me good morning. This may sound stupid to most people and I know that, but you don't have to understand because at the end of the day, the only person who could really understand is yourself. Hearts don't beat at the same time, and they certainly don't beat for the same things. What makes your happy doesn't make other people even interested, but at the end of the day, it's you who really counts. I understand, and I know why I feel this way. It doesn't mean I have to feel this way, but for now, I deserve to recognise what I feel, because if I don't, I can never move on from it. So, yes, here I am, in a place where I always wanted to be, but it doesn't mean I can't miss home because I do. Missing home doesn't mean I hate it here, because I don't. In fact, I love it here, it's just that I miss life back home.
Tonight, James and I are going to Hasland , where the Filipino community party is going to be held. I am excited but the weather makes my excitement wilt. And this is the First Day of my First English Summer.


Children.. One day they're these helpless little things who depended on you for everything, and the next day they are telling you how to live your life, like you've stopped having a mind of your own.